


Mycroft goes home

by lucifersbff



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Pirates, Young Sherlock, ever so slight angst, greg is only seen not really mentioned but he is there i promise, its just an attempt, kidlock style, young adult mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5744248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucifersbff/pseuds/lucifersbff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>University student Mycroft holmes goes back home and well his brother is happy to see him but he wants sherlock to grow up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mycroft goes home

He fumbled with the silver metal on the end of his keychain as he walked up the drive way. It was, if he was entirely honest with himself, scarier in the dark. The crisp chilling air nipped at his numb cheeks as he carried the over night bag. His footsteps were all he could hear as he neared the dark silhouette.

He let a small content smile slip through his icy façade as he neared the home he had grown up in. He remembered the familiar bricks and elegant inside. It was shortly before he had to leave that his mother had announced that half of the servants were going to be relieved of duty.

Now as he stood in front of the darkened door, that threatened to swallow him whole, he wondered why now of all times was he being reminded of the past. He looked behind him at the silver space. The moon making each blade of grass on the neatly cut pristine lawn lighter, he pictured his younger brother and himself running around playing pirates with their small puppy.

He was sure, as he continued to fiddle with the silver metal piece at the end of his keychain which resembled an umbrella, that he didn’t want to be there. He was much happier being in London and learning, but it was only because of his mother that he decided to come back. She had phoned the other evening as he was about to tuck into a rather small plum pudding as he read some notes. She had explained how his younger brother was missing him and how nice it would be if he were to come back and have a roast dinner.

Part of him knew that it would be nice to see his younger brother of whom he cared about a lot, but part of him also knew that his younger brother would need to grow up and live without him.

He placed the key gently into its designated place and unlocked the door, the familiar loud creak  caused him to wince slightly. He paused his movements and listened for any sounds that resembled a waking parent. He knew he was late, in fact he knew he was at least fifteen hours and twelve minutes late. It wasn’t entirely his fault, he had some surprise meetings to attend and work to hand into his professors.

He closed the door gently and placed his bag on the floor. He then took off his long black military coat and placed it on the wooden coat rack. He turned on the light revealing the newly decorated hallway. The normal mocha walls had been replaced with grey wallpaper with intricate patterns on it. The floor had been newly carpeted and the various furniture moved around. His grey suit jacket was the next thing he took off. He placed it gently onto his bag as he looked at the stairs.

A soft sigh escaped his thin lips as he watched the slowly moving child who slept on the staircase half way up, holding a wooden pirate sword. His younger brother’s long black locks covered part of his face, he looked so peaceful as he slept, however he knew that his brother hadn’t been quite as peaceful before as he could see the red rims around his eyes and the dried watermarks down his face. He noticed the damp patch on the sleeves of his brother’s red and white striped t-shirt.

He quietly walked over to the stairs sitting down next to his younger brother, he placed a hand on his brother’s small shoulder and gently shook him awake.

“Sherlock” he sighed as his brother began to stir. He watched as his younger brother rubbed his eyes and sat up before looking back at the thing that disrupted his sleep.

“Mycroft” Sherlock cried out, practically jumping onto his older brother. Mycroft recovered from the initial shock of being tackled by Sherlock. He felt his brother shaking slightly as Sherlock wrapped his arms around Mycroft and held tightly. Mycroft smiled slightly before wrapping his own long arms around his younger brother.

Even though in their childhood Sherlock and Mycroft had been the same, personality wise. Mycroft had drifted from the playful attitude his brother had. While Mycroft focused his time on bettering himself, Sherlock was still jumping around playing pirates and calling Mycroft a whale. Sherlock had been sad when Mycroft had told him that he was leaving to go to university. Sherlock had at the time locked himself away in his small lab and refused to believe that Mycroft was leaving. After some time though and many promises from Mycroft, Sherlock left the lab and clung onto Mycroft. Even when it was time to go Sherlock clung to Mycroft like Mycroft was his lifeline.

It hurt to see Sherlock so upset and that was why at the time Mycroft had only uttered a ‘caring is not an advantage’ before ruffling his brother’s messy locks and walking to the black car waiting outside.

“Mycroft...why didn’t... why didn’t you come home on t-time” Sherlock stuttered as they hugged. Mycroft’s eyes widen as he realised that his brother had probably been sat in the same position since this morning when Mycroft was supposed to have arrived. “I-I thought something had happened”

“Sherlock” Mycroft said sternly as he sighed. Sherlock pulled away from his brother once he heard the tone. He used his sleeve to wipe his tears away. “Caring is not an advantage. You should have been studying not sat here all day”

Sherlock’s eyes widen at the harsh words of his brother. Mycroft remained serious as Sherlock rubbed his eyes more.

“Bu-“ Sherlock began. Mycroft stopped him.

“Sherlock mummy has paid for a private tutor for you for a reason. Your intelligence is far too great to just be wasted all day playing pirates. Honestly, you’re too old for such ridiculous childish games. It’s late you should be in bed.” Mycroft explained. Sherlock’s eyes began to tear up again and he could sense the tears threatening to spill.

Sherlock ran up the stairs muttering something in coherent. Mycroft could only pick out the words ‘Boring’ and ‘hate’. Mycroft remained on the step for a little while longer, he thought about the brief conversation. He knew what he said was right but he hated seeing Sherlock so upset. He wanted to apologise and play pirates with Sherlock again and act as if he hadn’t grown up and left for university.

He huffed in frustration as he stood up straightening his grey waistcoat, white shirt and red tie. He walked back to the front door picking up his bag and jacket. He trudged up the stairs walking past his parents bedroom. He could hear his father snoring and he nodded and continued on. He walked up some more stairs and walked past Sherlock’s room. He could hear Sherlock’s quiet sobbing and the whines of Redbeard who normally slept in Sherlock’s bedroom.  Mycroft wondered whether he should knock and walk in, apologise for his actions and that he would play pirates with Sherlock tomorrow. However he decided against that. He walked further until he reached his bedroom door.

Initially Mycroft had expected his parents to have changed the room slightly or for Sherlock to have disrupted a few things, but as the elder Holmes entered he could see that everything had remained in the same position that he had left it.

He placed his dark brown bag on the end of his king sized bed that had the same clean navy blue sheets he had himself placed on. He slowly moved towards the dark oak wardrobe and opened it. He the walked back to his bag and placed each item of clothing in its rightful place.

After he had changed in to some blue and white striped pyjamas and brushed his teeth he sat on his bed. He wasn't tired, in fact he was far from being tired. Last night he had got his full eight hours sleep and throughout the painfully slow day yesterday he had managed with a sour face to down at least four cups of coffee.

Mycroft's last thoughts of the night were on his little brother, for once in his life Mycroft didn't understand what to do. He did however know that he should have stayed in London.

//\\\

The next morning Mycroft awoke to the curtains being pulled back and the quickened footsteps of a servant running out of the room. Most of the servants knew that Mycroft like his sleep, it was the only time he could get some peace from his normally busy routine.

He groaned slightly as he stood up next to his bed, he suddenly regretted the decision as the cold air nipped at his exposed feet like it had with his cheeks last night.

It was around 8:00am when Mycroft had fully woken up and changed. He had decided on having a five minute shower instead of his usual seven minutes. He was no longer dressed in his striped pyjamas and instead wore a white long sleeve shirt with a black tie as well as black tailored trousers.

He exited his bedroom and headed for the dining room on the ground floor. He could already hear everyone rushing about and his parents talking. He could hear his mother panicking about everything that didn't look good.

He strolled into the dining room and looked at his parents.

“Mike” his mother said with a rather large smile. His father smiled as well both of them walking over to him. His mother hugged him tightly as he looked for help from his father. Mycroft could literally feel his ribs breaking in the embrace and he pulled away.

“It's good to see you mummy.” He said with his reserved smile that he normally used for average people in the university.

“Mummy you should move away from him, he's not Mycroft he's become a monster.” Sherlock called out from his seat. He was still wearing his red and white striped t-shirt and blue shorts. His wooden sword was placed next to his plate and his feet were on the chair.

“William Sherlock Scott Holmes behave yourself, your older brother has come home to see you and us and all you can do is insult him.” His mother barked. Sherlock made a face and looked as though he was going to say something.

“it's quite alright mummy, Sherlock is probably just tired,” Mycroft sighed and sat down across from Sherlock.

Sherlock was the first to leave once he'd finished breakfast. Their father had left for work shortly after and their mother had withdrawn to the garden. Mycroft sat in the living room reading a book and contemplating whether to go into the nearest town.

Just as he was about to get up the living room door opened and Sherlock along with Redbeard stormed in. Sherlock was covered in mud as was Redbeard which caused Mycroft to frown. He looked at his younger brother who was pouting as he sat on the single chair near the fireplace.

Mycroft ignored his brother as he concentrated on the book in his hand. He was currently reading 1984 by George Orwell, half way through the page he could feel Sherlock's eyes on him. He continued on and by the time he turned the page he sighed and placed the book gently in his lap. He turned to his brother, who with puppy dog eyes looked at the elder Holmes.

“Fatcroft play pirates with me” he pouted in more of a statement then question.

“No Sherlock, my name is Mycroft and you have school work to do” Mycroft huffed out. He assumed that his brother had used his intelligence and observational skills to notice that Mycroft had indeed put on four pounds since they had last met.

“Pirates” Sherlock demanded. Mycroft frowned before standing up.

“Sherlock Holmes. I will tell mummy that you refuse to do your homework” Mycroft said, Sherlock crossed his arms and stood up on the chair. Mycroft winced as he saw the muddy boots Sherlock was wearing on the cream fabric.

“No you won't or I'll tell mummy that you were the one who broke the pot in the front garden.” Sherlock whined. Mycroft hadn't missed the stubborn nature his brother had or the fact that he blamed most of the destruction on him instead of taking the blame.

“I brought mummy a new pot, nice try brother dear. Do your homework” Mycroft said smugly. He could see that his brother was calculating.

“Well I'll tell mummy that you made her chair muddy” Sherlock said jumping down and grabbing some dirt from his boot and wiping it on Mycroft's white shirt.

“SHERLOCK. GO AND DO YOUR HOMEWORK NOW” Mycroft shouted. Mycroft ran a hand through his auburn hair before looking down at his shirt. If he had to guess this was the sixty sixth white shirt he had to replace because of Sherlock.

Sherlock stood with a slightly shocked expression, Mycroft rarely raised his voice at him and now he had ruined another of his brother's things.

“I was going to invite you after you did your homework to come to town with me but now I think I'll go on my own.” Mycroft stated beginning to unbutton his shirt. He was grateful that the mud hadn't gone through the shirt completely and onto his white t-shirt he had underneath.

Mycroft stormed out of the room continuing to undo his tie and shirt, by the time he had got to his bedroom he was holding the filthy shirt and his favourite tie which happened to also be covered in mud. He threw the dirty items in the bin next to his desk and rummaged through his wardrobe picking out an old red shirt and white tie. He rolled his eyes at the two items.

In his early teens Mycroft had a smart yet slightly strange fashion sense. He used to wear many different coloured shirts but these days he always wore some sort of white shirt with various different coloured ties.

He changed quickly before sitting at his desk and writing in a notebook. He was making a shopping list, he was still going to town. He needed to buy a new shirt, tie, notebooks and pens. He sighed as he tore a page from the small notebook he kept in his desk and folded it. He placed the note into his trouser pockets before sitting at the desk watching his mother and some maids arrange the large garden.

He couldn't help but be reminded of the past.

_“Mycroft” Sherlock screamed with laughter as his older brother chased him around the garden. Mycroft was wearing a pirate hat and some black shorts, his white t-shirt had a picture of a boat on it and he held a small wooden sword. Sherlock was wearing a black t-shirt and some pyjama bottoms._

_“Arg me hearties, ye be the cap’in of the jolly Redbeard” Mycroft said in a mock pirate accent. Sherlock tripped and Mycroft placed his shoe on Sherlock's stomach lightly. “Are ye 'im”_

_“argh ye be right” Sherlock said in more of a slurred accent. Sherlock was only a toddler and he had barely begun to count to fifty. His paper pirate hat was far too big for his head and he held a better sword then Mycroft._

_Sherlock wiggled away smacking the side of his sword into Mycroft's leg._

_“oh no I've been hit. Info’m me mummy, great Mycroft of the sea has been hit.” Mycroft screamed out._

_“Boys!”  their mother called. “Dinner will be done in a minute, come inside and get cleaned up. Mycroft change Sherlock into his dinner attire.”_

_“Yes mummy  come on Sherlock” Mycroft called out picking up his brother and walking into the house._

Mycroft blinked the memory away as a knock at his door caused him to jump. He stood up and walked over to the door. He opened it and saw a small gift wrapped in paper. He picked it up looking around. It didn't take a genius to see that it was from Sherlock as scrawled in messy handwriting was an attempt at 'sorry fatcroft'

He took the present into his room and opened it up. He threw the paper in the bin, he held the soft silk fabric in his hand. The dark blue tie was soft and patterned with geese about to fly away. Mycroft smiled as he placed it on the bed.

“Brother dear, I know you’re hiding. Thank you” Mycroft sighed, “But you still have to do your school work.”

“Fatcroft” Sherlock whinged and Mycroft walked away.

//\\\

Mycroft sat in a small café drinking a traditional English breakfast tea. He watched as steam exited the cup and entered the atmosphere in the café. There were only four people in the café which included the owner who made the tea and manned the cakes.

Mycroft had spent the best part of three hours in the café. He had attempted to and successfully deduced a male who had blonde hair that had lost its yellow spark and become grey. He had deduced that he was visiting a relative and owned a motorcycle, also the fact the young male smoked and was rather slow at thinking.

It was getting closer to four o’clock in the evening when Mycroft had finally decided that he would leave the café and set off home. He had forgot to think about the weight of the items he was carrying and the fact that he was bound to over spend.

He had brought at least ten notebooks, eight packs of black parker pens as well as three white shirts and four new ties. He had also picked up a thin long black umbrella, the handle was wooden and varnished.

The cold air welcomed him as he strolled down the street, his polished black shoes clacking on the stone pavement as he walked in time with his own heartbeat.  He looked at the shops before turning right and walking down another street.

That was when Mycroft saw it. If he wasn’t as observant as he was then he would have walked straight past it. He stood in front of the shop window staring at a beautifully made pirate outfit. If Sherlock were with him, Sherlock would have ran into the shop and demanded to buy the outfit.

Mycroft imagined Sherlock parading around in the long black pirate jacket, that was a little bit big for him, and  wearing the perfectly sized black pirate hat that had silly white fluff on top. There were some brown patches on the hat which only added to the worn looking hat. Normally Mycroft would’ve tutted and walked away but something about the whole pirate get up made him think.

He walked over to the shop door as the owner was just about to close. The elderly woman behind the door smiled at Mycroft before opening the door.

“You’re lucky young man normally I wouldn’t have opened the door when I’m closing but something about the expressions you made when you were looking through the window reminded me of my deceased husband.” The woman smiled closing the door. “What can I get you?”

“I would like to purchase the pirates outfit in the window” Mycroft said whilst gesturing to the outfit.

“Dear it’s quite a bit of money, it was specially made for a young boy.” The woman began before Mycroft smiled.

“Money is no problem.” Mycroft responded. “it would make the perfect present for my younger brother.”

The woman only smiled more and Mycroft had to stop himself from walking out of the shop. He wasn’t particularly fond of smiling people. The woman set off grabbing the various items and placing them into a quaint  black box that had golden lines around the edges. In the centre was the name of the shop in thick golden swirly letters.

“That will be thirty pounds” the woman said holding out her hand expectantly. Mycroft’s eyes widened at the sudden announcement of the price before he reached into his wallet and pulled out the correct money. The woman smiled handing him the box and placing the money into the till.

Mycroft began to walk off back on the path home. “wait, dear give your brother these. A pirate is nothing without a parrot and sword. Don’t worry it’s only a painted wooden sword not real” the woman called out walking quickly over to Mycroft who was halfway out of the door. She placed the two items in a carrier bag and onto Mycroft’s hand.

He was now full of bags and boxes. He had three carrier bags and one box as well as a small cake box from the café he was in.

//\\\

The walk home wasn’t the most pleasant but Mycroft didn’t really have time to call his father to pick him up. Once he had made it home however he walked straight to his room placing the various items down and changing his shirt. As much as red was a nice colour in Mycroft’s eyes the shirt was old and slightly too small for him. He changed into a new white shirt and decided to wear the tie Sherlock had given him.

He picked up the box and bag that held the pirate costume and items. He trudged to Sherlock’s bedroom where he could here his younger brother speaking out math sums. He knocked four times and waited.

“What do you want Fatcroft” he brother barked. Mycroft sighed.

“I had wanted to give you these nice presents but now I guess I shall donate them to some other little boy.” Mycroft spoke calmly. He could hear nothing and then the opening of the door. He walked into the rather untidy bedroom that his younger brother seemed to live in permanently.

“You’re wearing the tie and a new shirt.” Sherlock commented sitting on his bed and stroking Redbeard. Mycroft nodded and walked over to the desk where Sherlock’s maths exercise book was lying open. He hummed slightly as he looked through the various quadratics and formulas.

“Mummy told me the other day that you were more intelligent than your tutor. She’ll have to get a new one” Mycroft mentioned, “But you’ve got question four wrong. You’ve applied the wrong equation.”

“No I haven’t your just too slow to work it out.” Sherlock remarked. Mycroft sighed and stood in front of Sherlock.

“Here” Mycroft retorted passing Sherlock the box and bag.  He watched as Sherlock opened the box and pulled out the outfit. Sherlock’s eyes lit up like a child on Christmas as he threw on the jacket and hat. He grinned at Mycroft as he pulled out the parrot and new sword.

“Mycroft” Sherlock said happily. Sherlock jumped up and tackled his brother with a hug. “Thank you, you  brought me my own pirate outfit. Does this mean we can play pirates?”

“I’m sorry brother dear but I have to leave soon. I have a lecture tomorrow early in the morning” Mycroft said knowing that his brother’s grin would fall and he would be sad. Sherlock stared at the ground defeated. “But I promise that when I next come back we’ll play pirates for as long as you want.”

“You said that last time, how am I supposed to believe you” Sherlock huffed out.

Mycroft didn’t have an answer and instead just pulled away from Sherlock without a word and walked out. How was Sherlock supposed to believe him? He was always so busy these days.

//\\\

It was time for Mycroft to leave and as he stood in the door way of his childhood home that he probably wouldn’t see for a long time he waited for his brother to say goodbye. Mycroft didn’t want to leave the warmth of the house, he definitely didn’t want to get into the slightly colder car or even back to London without saying goodbye to his brother.

He checked the time on his watch that was wrapped around his slim left wrist as he clutched the handle of his new umbrella in his right hand. He was getting impatient, he had to leave now if he was going to get home in time to unpack and still get his full eight hours sleep.

“SHERLOCK. MIKE IS LEAVING. COME AND SAY GOODBYE” His mother yelled.

“Mummy leave him, I have to go, please would you tell him goodbye from me.” Mycroft sighed as he walked to the car, opening the car door. Mycroft placed his umbrella into the back.

“Fatcroft wait” Sherlock shouted from the doorway, Mycroft turned around and looked at his brother who was dressed in his pirate outfit and holding onto his new sword. Mycroft walked over to him and kneeled down slightly. He could see the tears beginning to form in his brother’s eyes.

“Sherlock don’t cry, I’ll be back for Christmas.” Mycroft said embracing his younger brother who began to sob. Mycroft had wished he never embraced his brother knowing that his coat was going to have a damp patch on the shoulder.

“Don’t go. I hate being the only kid here. I need someone to do experiments on.” Sherlock cried out.

“Sherlock” Mycroft said sternly, he didn’t want to have to say the same five words again but he hated the way his brother cried everytime he left. He would rather his brother hate him then be sad. He released Sherlock who rubbed his eyes. “Caring is not an advantage”

Sherlock stood there as Mycroft stood up and walked to the car. Mycroft knew that easiest part of seeing his family was the arriving. So as he sat in the backseat of the car that had started to drive away he didn’t look back, instead he focused on his watch. He looked at the time not saying a word, his vision became distorted. He blinked and the tears fell down his face.

“Caring is not an advantage” he muttered to himself as the tears fell

**Author's Note:**

> So I made this when after I had an argument with a group of people but I had been thinking about the idea of mycroft telling sherlock when he was little that caring is not an advantage and his brother always ignored it and cared about mycroft. But also mycroft doesn't say it just for sherlock he says it for himself as well, so thank you for reading a story that probably made zilch sense. also the title sucks because i'm not the best story namer ever.


End file.
